Take This Job and Remainder of Title Censored
by luvscharlie
Summary: In the aftermath of the war, Kingsley is learning to cope with his new job as Minister for Magic, and Andromeda brings a whole new set of tiny problems to his door.


_Take This Job and... (Remainder of Title Censored by Ministry) _by Luvscharlie

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Warnings: Language, and nothing else

_A/N: This was originally written as a pinch hit for the 2010 hp_rarities fest on Live Journal where the recipient asked for plot, development of minor characters, intelligent conversation, post DH and two characters working together to solve a problem.  
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There are some kids who go all through their Hogwarts career aspiring to be the Minister for Magic. They work hard. They revise and revise until they know spells backwards and forwards, inside and out. They could smile on cue, make speech after speech to group after group, making promises that they never intended to keep in the first place and have everyone cheering at what a great leader they'd be. Being shallow and meaningless had been something at which they excelled.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had _not_ been one of those kids. He had no political aspirations. It was far too much trouble remembering who you'd promised what and Merlin, that ridiculous smile one always had to wear—it made his cheeks hurt holding that stupid thing in place. And now he was expected to do this waving thing when he went out to public functions, wave this way, wave that way, don't forget to smile, hold your arm up higher, those in the back can't see you—and it just went on and on and on… he drew the line at kissing babies though.

_Blech! Babies._ You never knew out of what end they would erupt, but you could be assured that whichever it was, it was going to be unpleasantly putrid.

No amount of public approval was worth that. A man had his limits.

There were days Kingsley left his new post as Minister (most days, in fact) wondering how in the bloody hell this had happened. He'd never wanted this position of power. Never had any desire for it at all. He'd ways wanted to be an Auror, had set out to do just that, and damn it he'd been good at that job; the youngest head of the department in centuries. Go and have a war so people could have a better life, and this was where it landed you. In a position you didn't want and never asked for with a tired arm and sore fucking cheeks.

He was just settling in behind the big impressive desk that he never asked for when a sharp tap came at his office door.

"Come in," he said with a tired sigh. So much for sneaking a nap in between appointments, which he'd been looking forward to all morning since he'd had to start that damned smiling and waving at a Save the Fairies from Extinction Rally that Xenophilius Lovegood had organised… at 4:00 a.m. so the people could see the fairies in all their sparkly glory… what a nightmare.

And here was someone else needing something else from him. He pasted on the fake smile and looked up in time to see Andromeda Tonks entering with a blue haired baby on her hip. The poor thing; she looked as ragged as he felt.

"Ms. Tonks," Kingsley said, a bit of guilt creeping into his voice. Here he'd been sitting and feeling sorry for himself for all this hard work, when this woman had lost so much during the war. She'd given up everything, her entire family (not that, if you asked him, that lot was much of a loss) to be with her husband, who the war had brutally taken from her, and she'd lost both her daughter and son-in-law at the Battle of Hogwarts. The only things the woman had left were her dignity and the child who clutched at her. Kingsley stood and motioned for her to take a seat in front of his desk. "Would you like a cup of tea? My assistant would be happy to bring you one."

Andromeda waved off the formalities with an attempt at a smile, taking her seat with all the grace and regality of a woman raised in the Noble and Ancient House of Black.

"I've come to you with a concern, Minister," Andromeda began.

"Of course. Any concern of my citizens is a concern of mi—"

"Save it, please. Not much point to it." Andromeda held up a hand. "I'll remind you, Kingsley Shacklebolt, that I'm a very busy woman. I have little time for your pleasantries or your attempts at smiling and making me comfortable or placating the masses and—"

"Thank Merlin," Kingsley said, flopping back down into his chair behind the desk with a sigh of relief. "Then if you don't mind, I have something I have to do before we go any farther here." Kingsley bent over, untied his shoes and toed them off, wiggling his sore and aching feet. "My God, do you have any idea how long I've been wearing those today?"

Andromeda rolled her eyes, and after looking at the height of the heels she wore, Kingsley better understood the lack of sympathy. _How do women wear those things without falling and killing themselves?_

"Now that you've taken care of your… problem… might I have a moment of your attention, Minister?" The word "Minister" rolled off her tongue in a way that made it sound as though it were some sort of laughable title… or perhaps he was simply being overly sensitive today. Andromeda Tonks had an uncanny way of looking and talking to him, so that he felt as though he were a child back at Hogwarts in detention, constantly in fear of being reprimanded yet again. So he wasn't surprised when he found himself nodding at her, waiting for her to resume speaking, and a little in fear of what would come out of her mouth next.

Oh, if only he had known then…

Andromeda continued on. "Minister, it has come to my attention, with the tragic death—" a tear slipped down her cheek, but she showed no other signs of breaking down— and Kingsley felt his heart break a little— "of my own daughter and her husband, that other families—other children—may have found themselves in the very same predicament as myself and young Teddy, here. They have no funds, what with the last year under Death Eater rule, there was no way for some of us to support ourselves, and there are just so many single parents now." She sniffed and Kingsley passed her his handkerchief, but she trudged on determined to get out her story. "These parents must have a way to support themselves and their children, and these children need to be cared for so their parents can find employment, and I want the Ministry to do something about this. With my assistance of course." She tacked on that last bit, it seemed, to assure him that she wasn't in his office to heap more responsibility in his lap; she was willing to shoulder a bit of the load herself.

"I'm listening," Kingsley said, urging her to continue.

"Okay, then…"

And that was where Kingsley made his biggest mistake. He should have shoved his fingers in his ears and danced around his desk chanting 'I can't hear you, I'm not listening' wearing nothing but a tea cosy and a smile because honestly, in the long run, he would have looked far less ridiculous and only one and a half (could you really count the little bugger as a whole person? he didn't think so) people would have seen it.

The resulting calamity was far worse. From that conversation with Andromeda Tonks, Ministry sponsored childcare was born… and no amount of smiling or waving could have raised Kingsley's popularity within the walls of the Ministry after that… at least not with the people who had to work there.

It was a good idea. It looked really good in the papers that the Ministry was sponsoring free childcare within their walls for all of those witches and wizards who had been left without their significant other or parents and needed to work to support their children but had no one to care for them in their absence. House elves were being paid a fair wage for their assistance in caring for the little buggers in Andromeda's Ministry-sponsored childcare centre, and in passing crowds, Kingsley could hear all the praise he was getting for such a wonderful idea. How thoughtful the new Minister was, putting their needs first, taking care of even the smallest victims of the war… the children.

So how did something that started so brilliantly turn so bad? Well, the thing was that once a wizard or witch received their wand, the memories of what it was like before they got that wand seemed to fade… apparently a lot. The powerful form of wandless magic that wizard babies and children could do didn't stay in the forefront of one's mind after they were grown. But oh, it should have…

* * *

Kingsley appropriated a good portion of the first floor of the Ministry for childcare, so the parents wouldn't be forced to take their children in the Ministry lifts anymore than necessary. Andromeda worked for several weeks ordering cots, painting the walls with lively colours, taking donations of toys and beginning to sign up people who qualified for this new program. Things were running quite smoothly and Kingsley had never seen Andromeda Tonks smile so brightly. Finding a cause to which she could devote her time and efforts had made a large difference in her life and it showed.

The evening before the childcare centre was set to open, Kingsley stopped by to give it a final look over, as well as to show some support for Andromeda's undertaking. "You've done a fine job here," he said, taking in the red and yellow walls and the brightly made up cots filled with plush toys.

"Thank you. It does look nice, doesn't it?" Andromeda stood beside him and looked over the room herself as her grandson crawled nearby gurgling and cooing his excitement to an overstuffed bear.

"Seems you have Teddy's approval as well," Kingsley said. "I just wanted to stop by and let you know I think this is a wonderful idea you've come up with; it's going to help out a lot of witches and wizards. Best of luck tomorrow."

* * *

Kingsley's next day started out early. This time it was a Fair Wage for House Elves Rally at half six. (Honestly, did these people ever sleep? He was all about a good cause, but might they at least start a bit later in the day?). And even worse than the waving and the smiling, this time he had to try not to fall asleep, 'cause he could just imagine those headlines in the _Prophet_. _Minister Shows Support for House Elves by Sleeping Through Rally!_ But the damn rally went on for three hours with Hermione Granger at a podium talking about liberating House elves, paying them wages, and blah, blah, blah… because at that point Kingsley had completely tuned out. Seriously, he liked the girl, but _just say your piece and step down, already_.

He finally made it into his office at half nine. He found it odd that Phyllis wasn't at her desk outside his office, but really, good help these days was so hard to find. And while Phyllis was excellent at most of her duties, punctuality was not her strong point. Still… half nine… he'd have to talk to her about this tardiness. He opened the door to his own office rather quickly and startled a jam-covered toddler who was sitting in the middle of his desk. It began to wail as Phyllis ran up behind him.

"Oh thank Merlin, you found him."

"Wait, I found who? Someone's lost?"

"Oh, and you made him cry? Whatever were you thinking? Do you know how loud he can get?" Phyllis clicked her tongue at him in a tsking manner. She reached for the sticky glob of baby, all chubby legs and big black curls, and began to walk off with him. "We've been looking everywhere for this one. One down and three to go."

And in a swish of skirt, she was gone around the corner with the child in her arms. "What just happened?" Kingsley was still shaking his head when he walked all the way into his office to find that all the parchments on his desk were coated in sticky jam finger paint. "If it grows up to be a criminal, we'll have its finger prints," he said with a chuckle, tossing the parchment into the rubbish bin.

He came back out of his office an hour later to make his morning rounds through the Ministry. Things seemed well until he made it to the atrium to find seven Aurors surrounding the Fountain of Magical Brethren, all with wands drawn.

_Are we under attack?_ Kingsley ran forward, drawing his own wand. "What is it? Where's the danger? Is it Death Eaters? Is it—"

Hestia Jones interrupted him. "It's her," she said pointing towards a tow headed child, probably around eight years of age, though he wasn't all that good at guessing things like that, far up the statue and sitting on the centaur's back, swinging her legs back and forth.

Kingsley stepped back aghast. "And it takes seven of you to deal with one child? A little girl riding a pony? It takes seven of my best Aurors to handle the situation? I'm just—I don't even know what to-"

"First of all," Hestia interrupted, pulling a face, "A pony? How very P.C. of you, Minister," she said with a snarl. "The _Prophet_ ever hears you insult the centaurs like that and—"

Kingsley shot her a look and she stopped talking about centaurs and turned back to the child. "And I'd like to see you get her down. Every time someone gets close to her, she bats her eyes and something on them swells up or turns green or shrinks tiny… and I won't even tell you about what she did to poor Dedalus Diggle, but I suspect he's going to be in the infirmary for a few days, and his girlfriend is going to be rather upset with the shrinkage that I feel certain must have happened from all that screaming he did."

"This is utterly ridiculous. You just have to be firm." He looked up at the little girl with her blonde pig tails, bouncing in rhythm with her swinging legs, and spoke loudly and clearly. "Young lady, you come down from there this instant."

The child gave him her sweetest smile and waved, sliding over the saddle as though she was going to climb right down.

"Be careful there, sweetheart," Kingsley called up to the child. Then he looked at his Aurors and shook his head in disgust. "It's a child!" he said incredulously. "You lot couldn't deal with a petulant child. I'm so disappointed in all of you that I don't even know what to say."

"She's a little girl, Minister. It's not like we can just blast her down, ya know." Hestia smirked and pointed up. "And you might want to try saying get down again, since it worked _so well_ the first time."

"What?" Kingsley looked up to find that the child had climbed from the rump of the centaur over to sit on the statue of the wizard's outstretched arm, swinging her legs back and forth again, singing merrily to herself as she waved at her attentive audience. Kingsley looked pointedly at the child again. "I thought I told you to come down from there. Do it right this instant!"

"Nope," the child said, looking down at them all.

"Nope? What do you mean nope?"

"I think she means she's not coming down, sir," Hestia said, giggling behind her hand at Kingsley's failed attempts to exert his authority with the child.

"Thank you, Jones, I'd worked that out." He turned back to the little girl. "If you don't come down, I'm going to have to climb up there and get you." The child ignored him. He started forward and his left finger swelled up like a balloon when the child batted her eyes. "Now you just stop that this instant," he said toeing off his shoes and stepping into the fountain.

Three hours later, and a visit from the healer for what would henceforth be known as the Minister-Deflation-Incident, and the little girl was back in the childcare centre regaling the other children with tales of the pretty fountain and her adventures there.

* * *

The next day, Unspeakable Daugherty arrived at Kingsley's office from the Department of Mysteries with news of a boggart that was loose in the Ministry. Memos were sent out to all the departments to be on the lookout for the little beast.

The memos were immediately cancelled. It seems the boggart had the misfortune of choosing the childcare centre for its next haunting place, and it was simply no match for twin two year olds. Apparently, the only thing those children feared was a nap, and it confused the boggart so much that the poor thing simply slunk away to find a new home.

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On day three, the Department of Magical Games and Sports was attacked by runaway teddy bears. There was an explosion in the first floor loo. A meeting of the Wizengamot erupted in chaos when a one year old popped up at a very intense moment in the relating of a Death Eater attack and yelled "boo". Three children went missing, leading a merry game of hide-n-seek with the Aurors and other personnel throughout the entirety of a day… and on and on it went until at the end of the week, Kingsley's office was bombarded with staff members demanding that something be done about the childcare centre… and three Aurors were in the infirmary for cases of accidental magic gone awry. Apparently, in clusters, children were far more dangerous than alone. _Who knew?_

The _Prophet_ was having a field day with this. No matter what Kingsley did to keep it under wraps, they always seemed to find out about it. He was beginning to hear sniggers when he walked down the street… and oh, the photographs. Somehow one had leaked out of him in his pre-deflated state… and, the embarrassment was just—well, you try and hold your head up high after everyone's seen a photo of your bum swollen to three times its normal size. And damn it, he had a nice bum too! When it wasn't all swelled up, that was. There was also a completely un-politically correct printing that the Minister had referred to a centaur as a pony, which had other magical creatures in a bit of an uproar (those that could read, at least). And no amount of waving and smiling was going to get this back under control. Damn, Hestia Jones. He did not put it past her to have been the one to tattle on him.

The only choice he had was to go and see Andromeda. The childcare centre must be shut down…only, he had no desire to do that at all, because it would make Andromeda upset. He liked Andromeda, maybe more than he should, having been Ted Tonks' friend and Nymphadora's boss at one point. It was mostly admiration on his part. She was so strong, so brave, trudging on in the face of such adversity as she had seen in recent years. She was also quite attractive, in a regal and classy sort of way.

He made his way to the childcare centre right as most of the children were leaving for the day. One small boy walked by him and pointed and giggled, saying, "Look, it's the man with the puffy bum! I liked you better when you were all puffy!"

Kingsley waited patiently amidst the happy titters of children and 'thank yous' of parents as they picked up their kids. And the longer he sat there, the more he felt like a prat. Andromeda had been right. This place really was needed. The witches and wizards coming in were thankful to have a safe (for the children anyway; the rest of the Ministry was in mortal peril, but the kids were safe) place to leave their children while they worked to support them. And as their Minister, he owed them that.

"You wanted to see me, Minister," Andromeda said after the last child (excluding young Teddy) had gone for the day.

Kingsley simply smiled at her. "I just wanted to let you know what a good job you're doing here."

If he wasn't mistaken, he thought that a slight blush crossed Andromeda's face at the compliment. "I know there have been a few mishaps this first week. Has _all_ the swelling gone down now, by the way?" she said, looking pointedly at his arse.

"Yes," he said through clenched teeth.

"Oh, good. As I was saying, I know there have been some mishaps, but nothing ever does start out smoothly, now does it?"

"I guess not. But the kids seem terribly happy here, and the parents seem grateful. Seems like this just may be the thing to get some people back in the work force and still have the peace of mind of knowing their children are safe and cared for."

"I do hope so. I think my Nymphadora would be pleased with what I've done here, don't you?" she asked, sweeping her hand about the centre.

"Tonks would be proud, yes indeed. You're doing a good job with her boy there, and so many others."

Kingsley left the childcare centre no closer to a solution to his problem. He simply could not close that centre. Too many people depended on it, and it would break Andromeda's heart. Maybe a Minister shouldn't take Andromeda's feelings into consideration over something so serious, but she was his friend, as her husband and her daughter had been as well. The Wizarding world owed her family much. And this one centre was all she asked in return for the loss of her family—a chance to help those in similar situations. What kind of human being would he be to deny her such a thing? A rather rotten one… with a normal size arse.

He went home that Friday night desperate to find a solution: a way to keep the centre open and the Ministry standing (which was not likely to happen if the children continued to stay there during the work day).

…and finally he had it.

* * *

"Move the centre from the Ministry? But whatever for?" Andromeda asked, when Kingsley arrived on her doorstep and made the suggestion early Saturday morning.

"Look, Andromeda, you know I want this centre to stay open as much as you do, but these incidents at the Ministry cannot keep happening. Some of the workers are lodging rather loud complaints."

Her face registered distress, but Kingsley waved it away. "Not to worry. I already have another place lined up. Grab Teddy and come with me. I have a car waiting."

* * *

They pulled up to the London Dragon Hatchery and Andromeda turned a sour face to Kingsley. "You cannot be serious! A dragon reserve? For children?"

Kingsley gave her a very serious look. "Little dragons, little children, and from what I've seen over the past week, they're fairly evenly matched in ferociousness. This will work out splendidly, just you wait and see." And secretly, he was thinking that he truly hoped the dragons could hold their own… as they were serious underdogs.

* * *

A week later, an owl arrived on the Minister's office window. Kingsley looked at the wax seal on the parchment and noticed that it was from the London Dragon Hatchery. He broke the seal with trepidation and read the letter. He finished the letter, flopped down in his chair with the most un-minister-like of grace, and swore. Seems the dragons could _NOT_ hold their own and it was back to the drawing board for a childcare centre location.

"Fucking job," Kingsley said through clenched teeth, then took out his frustration on a paperweight and lobbed it out the window.

* * *

The next morning's _Prophet_ ran the following front page headline: _Paperweight Seen Flying from Minister's Office. Have Pressures of Job Sent Shacklebolt Around the Bend?_


End file.
